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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874855">Survivor’s Guilt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daevastanner/pseuds/Daevastanner'>Daevastanner</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Daevabad, Daevabad Trilogy, I need more Irtemiz and Dara, Other, Survivors Guilt, kingdom of copper, spoiler for kingdom of copper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daevastanner/pseuds/Daevastanner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With Navasatem approaching, Dara needs all of his men to have a clear head and Irtemiz is no exception</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darayavahoush e-Afshin &amp; Irtemiz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Survivor’s Guilt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Irtemiz wasn’t much for silence. She usually preferred the company of her comrades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But since Mardoniye was murdered and her discovery that Manizeh’s copper dust had a larger effect than anticipated she’d started to spend her evenings alone on the training field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arrow after arrow she sent flying at the straw stuffed targets their Afshin had helped them craft. Each one sunk into the “throat” or “lungs” of the dummy. Perfect shots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Irtemiz found herself apathetic. Her normal sense of pride at how far she’d come with a bow was lacking. The rush of staying out past curfew absent. She felt hollow. The only promise of her mood improving was the upcoming rebellion on Daevabad. The Afshin would be issuing their assignments soon and Irtemiz had fallen into his favor over the years. It was clear to Irtemiz that he had a fondness for her. She was hopeful that the two combined would earn her a satisfactory position for battle. Perhaps leading the charge or even fighting by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she had anything close to the power Darayavahoush had. He was an original Daeva, free of Suleiman’s curse. She was merely a country girl who’d grown talented with a bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz stalked over to the target, removing the arrows sunken into the dummy’s chest with a bit more vigor than necessary. If only she’d been this quick when Mardoniye had been attacked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill went down her spine as she recalled the past few days. The copper dust that only killed Geziri. The horror in their eyes and the choked gasps of desperation. If that dust moved as she feared it might, that would be all of the djinn in Daevabad come Navasatem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be aware that your continued disobedience is wearing me thin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz looked over her shoulder to see the Afshin waiting for her at the start of the shooting range, his arms crossed over his chest. She offered a feeble attempt at her usual grin, approaching him and stuffing all of the arrows back in her quiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could not sleep,” she shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my time, if I’d disregarded a superior as often as you they would have had me cleaning out chamber pots in the infirmary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then it is fortunate for me that we do not have an infirmary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted and Irtemiz gave another weak attempt at a smile. Much like the Afshin, she wore her heart on her sleeve, though half the time it was unintentional. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Darayavahoush squinted into the darkness, peering at her practice target. She rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. His praise was dear to her, as it was to most of the recruits. They’d been raised on tales of the Afshin and his silver bow. She held her breath, observing the impressed expression on his lips as they turned down at the corners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Creator, I fear for the Geziri that takes a shot at you,” he remarked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His compliment didn’t strike the chord she’d hoped it would. Instead she felt empty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She exhaled steadily. “Thank you, Afshin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dara paused, his emerald eyes taking note of her grim expression. “Come walk with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz glanced wistfully at the target range, pursing her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually, she was not one to turn up her nose at spending time with the Afshin. In fact, their interactions were something she looked forward to. He seemed to appreciate her humor and her high spirited demeanor. Noshrad had teased her when she’d first been asked to train among the men that Darayavahoush would grow weary of her chattiness. She would be dismissed after one day, he’d said. The joke was on Noshrad when the Afshin had taken a particular interest in training her on the bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At her hesitation Darayavahoush made a disgruntled sound and took the bow from her hand, looping it over her neck and on her back. His hand cupped her shoulder and he steered her towards the trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Afshin was known to act casually with his men - Irtemiz in particular - on many occasions, but this was a greater change of pace than she was used to. She wasn’t exactly surprised, though. She imagined her recent stony demeanor had given him cause for concern. She cringed, waiting for him to say something, but instead they just continued to walk across the moonlit forest, weaving between the trees. Her mind flooded with all the dark thoughts she’d been shoving to the back of her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could’ve saved Mardoniye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The copper dust was going to lead to a massacre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It should’ve been Irtemiz and not Mardoniye. Mardoniye was a trained member of the Daeva Brigade. He was fierce and charming and he had deserved revenge after all that Ghassan had stood by and let happen to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who was she to live? A chatty orphan girl with a vendetta against the Qahtanis for not offering her little country town aid after they’d been ravaged by a zahaak. She was not a soldier no matter how well she could shoot a bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mardoniye should be the one leading the charge of the rebellion or riding into battle alongside Darayavahoush e-Afshin. Not her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was, if the battle assignments were to be issued as she expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I spoke with Banu Manizeh about the spread of copper dust you mentioned,” Darayavahoush said offhandedly. “She says that it is still in the first stages and by Navastatem the dose will be more concentrated at an intended target. The spreading will not be an issue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz tried to bite her tongue - she really did. “Do you believe her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stiffened at her side. “Irtemiz…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can not say such things, Irtemiz. You may as well be speaking treason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I didn’t mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Banu Manizeh had saved her people and had performed miracles - but with each speech she gave, Irtemiz saw her grow more and more fierce. She did not fear Manizeh as she did Ghassan, but desperate people were dangerous. Irtemiz would know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, if the Afshin trusted Banu Manizeh then so did Irtemiz. Or at least was willing to try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t happen again, Afshin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See that it doesn’t,” he said sternly. With no preamble or tact to speak of, Dara continued. “Battle assignments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz arched a brow giving the Afshin her full attention. The moment she’d been waiting for. He looked… wary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will lead a group with Bahram.” His green eyes refused to meet hers. “You will remain on the shore front of the lake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz felt her brows furrow. But she was his most promising recruit… Next to Mardoniye she was rumored to be his favorite… She couldn’t rationalize this decision. Anger boiled in her, disappointment threatened to rage in her tear ducts. She balled up her fists trying to find the proper response. How did one tell their superior officer that he was making a bad decision and that she would be essential to the battle? She inhaled slowly through her nose and met the Afshin’s eyes. His expression was unreadable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, you always say that I’m the most advanced of your archers,” she said, swallowing. “You once called me ‘an indispensable asset.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is exactly why I cannot have you in the thick of it alongside the ghouls and the ifrit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Irtemiz, that is where I need you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need me at your side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I do not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you said-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>that I need you on the shore front.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tone was not one Irtemiz was familiar with receiving. It was a tone reserved for more disobedient or reckless recruits. It was severe and commanding. Her posture was rigid as they continued. Was it because of Mardoniye? Is that why he was putting her on the sidelines? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz blinked back the tears of rage that threatened to spill over. She prayed to the Creator the Afshin didn’t look at her. To her relief his eyes remained trained forward. The tears subsided and she squared her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Afshin,” she said evenly. “I apologize for my behavior.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could she do nothing right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed - a tired sound. “You are not yourself lately, Irtemiz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep down, Irtemiz had known this was coming but still winced at his words. “I’m sorry, Afshin,” she murmured, kicking at a rock poking out from beneath the snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had not meant for this encounter to be so fraught with apologies,” Darayavahoush smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what had you meant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Afshin exhaled laboriously again and threw Irtemiz an exhausted look. “Mardoniye?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz chewed the inside of her cheek. Dara had done a good job of comforting her - assuring her that the attack was too quick for even him to catch, much less her. Even so, even if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have saved him, she wished she had. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It should’ve been me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose that I simply miss him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am certain that you do,” Darayavahoush nodded. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> certain that something else troubles you. However, why you will not tell me what that is, I know not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I think I could have saved him and I’m frightened you would agree.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it is unimportant, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dara stopped in his tracks and Irtemiz’s eyes widened. She faced him warily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>important that all of my men have a clear head.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “Especially when the man in particular is someone I have grown to favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz shifted to her other foot as they settled in a snowy clearing. This kind of comment from the Afshin would have made her flush with pride not long ago. She would’ve been delighted and boasted about it to Piroz and Noshrad and Gushtap. Bahram and Laleh would make playful jibes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in this moment, she felt weak. His words didn’t feel like a badge of honor to be toted about. His words instead made something crawl up her throat. She clenched her jaw and turned her gaze to the snowy canopy above as tears brimmed in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz would not cry. She was the Afshin’s prize pupil. The one who kept everyone’s spirits up. The one who was always happy for more work - more chances to prove herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even so, the tears spilled over. She quickly brushed them away with the heel of her palm. The Afshin looked as though he was not sure what he should do. He averted his gaze as though to give her some privacy, but the expression on his face was clearly concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, I apologize-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> apologies, Irtemiz.” His voice was quiet but firm. He seemed to struggle for words briefly, but then found himself. “In my day, when an Afshin was behaving as you do-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? They would be made to lug sacks of vegetables uphill? They would be sent to the karkadan stalls to shovel manure? Tell me, what is the punishment for crying in front of your superior?” Her breathing hitched, and she quickly composed herself with a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dara’s eyes had grown soft, the flat line of his lips more disappointed than angered. “No, Irtemiz,” he said solemnly. “When an Afshin was behaving as you do, their superior officer would be there to lend an ear and ensure they had a clear head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. What an ass she’d made of herself in front of her commander. What would her father have said if she told him she’d wept before Darayavahoush e-Afshin?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever is wrong, whatever you are apologizing for it makes you no less of a warrior, Irtemiz,” the Afshin said plainly. “Many of my men have wept. Many of my men have been in poor spirits. I would go to them, no different than this, to hear their burdens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not wish for your pity, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I do not wish my best recruit to continue forward so distracted and disheartened,” he countered. The corner of Dara’s lip quirked. “Who else am I to count on to make Noshrad scowl? Or to have a barbed comment ready for an ifrit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz nodded. If it truly made her no less of a warrior and he was willing to listen, what was the harm in baring her soul to him? She crossed to a fallen tree, dusting off the thin blanket of snow so that she could sit. Dara joined her, the heat radiating from him evaporating the remaining flakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I should have done something. About Mardoniye. And I feel like if someone was going to die then it should’ve been me, not him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She expected a gasp but instead the Afshin just nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m familiar with this feeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words came tumbling out after that. The guilt she harbored. How it should’ve been her to take the zulfiqar’s blow. How Mardoniye deserved to fight in the rebellion, not her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to his word, Darayavahoush listened intently. Occasionally he asked her to clarify or to elaborate and with each moment that passed, it felt like a heavy weight was being lifted off of her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed a listening ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a long, labored exhale, Irtemiz finished, the constricted feeling in her chest loosening. The sigh elicited a chuckle from the Afshin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were right,” Irtemiz said with a wry smile. “I definitely feel lighter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On occasion, I know what I am talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was quieter, less assured when she next spoke. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Afshin said with a dip of his head. “Shall we head back to camp or would you rather continue to brood at the shooting range?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz braced her hands on her knees to stand. “I’ll leave the brooding to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not brood,” Darayavahoush bristled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do and I regret to inform you that it is one of your defining qualities amongst the men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And would one of these men happen to be Bahram?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz felt her cheeks warm. She pursed her lips to fight off a smile, refusing to meet the eyes of her commander.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course you do not.” A hint of a sly smile spread on his lips. “He is a quiet boy - he may need a bit of a push.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no idea you were such an expert in relationships, Afshin.” Irtemiz’s eyes danced with amusement as she gave her commander a knowing look. “Would you like some advice from myself-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed at his immediate insistence, the firmness in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “I’ve noticed that your generation lacks a judgment for propriety in favor of a more informal approach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize, Afshin. I thought that we were speaking as friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked a little guilty but shrugged his shoulders, standing from his seat. “There is a time and place. You are usually a good judge of where and when those times are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irtemiz joined him, folding her arms across her chest. It was a strange thing to have the man you were told legends of, a folk hero of sorts, stand before you and lend you an ear. The man who had a shrine in the Grand Temple. The man who all the boys in her town had pretended to be with tiny ash, Afshin marks drawn on their temples. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was here beside her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>flesh and blood.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>That’s it :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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